


Restrain

by spiralribbons



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24696646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralribbons/pseuds/spiralribbons
Summary: It was all Techno's fault that Type was currently in the possession of a shiny new pair of handcuffs.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 6
Kudos: 292





	Restrain

This was all Techno's fault, Type decided vehemently.

It was partially Tharn's fault too, he amended as an afterthought. If Tharn hadn't gone home for the weekend (Type had been invited along too but it had been the weekend of Tharn's mother's birthday and Type hadn't wanted to intrude on their family time), then Champ wouldn't have asked him to come along to the mall to get a gift for Techno. 

There had also been the burning question as to why Champ had felt the need to get Techno a gift for winning the position of team captain at all.

"He made us vote for him," Type had said flatly. "Why are you congratulating him for something he made us do?"

Champ had mumbled something about a promise, then turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Come on, Type, you're his best friend, I don't know who else to ask. I don't know what he likes."

"But why," Type had said then, more bewildered, "Can't you just buy him lunch? Wait, I'm supposed to be his best friend?"

Champ had said something that sounded like _who else puts up with you all the time,_ and Type had glared at him until Champ threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay _okay_ , so will you help me out or not?"

"Yeah, fine," Type had said, and so that had been how Type ended up at the mall trailing after Champ as he fretted from store to store looking for the perfect gift for Techno. 

After three hours of walking back and forth and Champ shooting down all of Type's suggestions, Type, still not getting the point, had gritted his teeth and said, "I've never met anyone more useless than me when it comes to gift-giving. Just get him a damned football jersey or new shoe studs or something if it means so much to you."

Type had left Champ to his own devices after that, wandering about the mall on his own, and _that_ had been how he discovered next to the nail parlour there was now a tiny new store that sold rather _unconventional_ sex toys. And obviously Type hadn't been about to waltz right in when he was supposed to be waiting for Champ and all, so he'd gone back to the mall the next day and so _that_ was how Type was currently in possession of a new pair of handcuffs. 

He had to admit they were quite nice. They were made of black leather, shiny metal studs all around the edges, lined with soft velvet on the inside and connected with a short length of heavy silver chain. The chain was adjustable, the girl at the store had explained, then demonstrated how sturdy the ring clips were so you could easily loop them around a bed post or over the back of a chair and wouldn't detach even if you tugged really hard on them. 

Then she had paused, thoughtfully looked him up and down, and pointed to another shelf to show him another kit from the same series with a collar and more cuffs that went around the ankles and thighs, that you could attach to the handcuffs if you really wanted to properly tie someone up. Or if you wanted to be tied up.

"Uh." Type had turned bright red, stammered out, "Actually, these are just for a joke, thanks," and promptly fled with his purchase. 

So yes, it was Techno's fault that Type had those handcuffs that he certainly wasn't going to show to Tharn, ever, and definitely wasn't ever going to ask Tharn if he would want to try them out on Type, like _ever_. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Techno said at dinner, after Type had insulted his stupid new haircut twice in the span of five minutes.

"Your hair is stupid," Type said, sharply yanking at a strand of hair curling over Techno's left ear. "Curly hair makes you look weird."

"I think he looks fine," Champ said, and Type stared at him.

"See? Now Champ's the kind of buddy who knows how to appreciate me," Techno said. They fist-bumped over the table, and Type stared some more.

"Clearly the both of you need to get your eyes checked out," Type said at last, scooping more curry onto his plate, then pointing his curry-covered fork at Techno. "You look funny. Is this because I said your brother's the handsome one? Because he's definitely the handsome one now."

"Anyway, when is Tharn coming back?" Champ said over the sounds of Techno sputtering in indignation, abruptly changing the topic. "Isn't he playing at the bar tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow, he said. He'll be going straight to the bar, I'm meeting him there," Type said. He swallowed a mouthful of curry-drenched rice. "This isn't spicy."

"Nothing's spicy enough for you," Techno muttered, then said something under his breath that suspiciously sounded like _but getting up to it with Tharn._

Type valiantly ignored him.   


  
Type had a small table in a far corner of P'Jeed's bar he'd commandeered for himself ever since Tharn's new band took up regular gigs again. It was farther away from the noisy crowd, hidden in a comfy nook by the stairs, but it still had a decent view of the stage. Most days he sat alone, which he didn't mind at all. It was a lot more preferable than having to make small talk with the hordes of giggling girls that semed to turn up every time Tharn's band was slotted in to play.

Type didn't think he could ever get bored of watching Tharn play. Tharn performed with the same intense, pure passion that Type saw in everything else Tharn ever did. The main lights dimmed as Tum introduced the band to loud cheers from the crowd, and the halogen lamps over the stage cast a dim smokey glow over Tharn's face that Type could only describe as _smouldering_. 

Halfway through the first song, P'Jeed sent over a cute girl with a pint for him. Type tipped her generously, then firmly pressed a few extra folded notes into her hand - ever since he'd gone official with Tharn, P'Jeed had been plying him with free beer off the tap whenever he came to watch Tharn play. 

"Don't be silly," P'Jeed had said, after he'd tried to pay in full the first few times, "Tharn has so many fangirls who come in to watch him that one or two pints aren't going to make a dent at all in the night's profits - oh, are you _jealous_?"

"Oh my god, hell no." Type had said, horrified. So then he had come up a plan to always send the servers back with tips and enough to cover at least half the cost of his drinks. This for some reason got P'Jeed's approval, which meant even more free drinks until Type thought he should probably stop coming at all if he wanted his liver to last him beyond thirty. 

Type was nicely tipsy by the time the band finished their last song. He leaned back, slowly sipping at his beer as the guys packed up their stuff. Tharn liked to go mingle around in the crowd after that, working his charms - _Give up, he's taken_ , Type thought nastily when a girl with curly brown hair went up to Tharn with her phone to ask for a photo.

A few minutes later, Tharn finally broke away from the girls gathered around him and walked up to Type, holding a fresh bottle of beer.

"It's from May," Tharn said, then seeing Type's confused expression, clarified, "The girl in the blue dress."

"Oh. Her," Type said, squinting through the darkened bar and spotting the curly-haired girl as she waved at Tharn from across the room. "I don't like her," he added.

"Oh?" Tharn grinned, wrapping a hand around Type's shoulders and squeezing. "Let me finish this first, then we'll go home. How does that sound?"

"Great," Type responded, then stared at his own half-empty glass, considering. "I think I had too much too drink."

When they got home, Type made Tharn drop his bags in the hallway and tugged him over to the couch, pulling at his shirt. 

"Take that off," Type demanded, over Tharn's feeble protests. "Sex first. You can shower later."

The sex was great, as usual. Tharn pressed him down with one firm hand between his shoulder blades and fucked him from behind, so slowly that Type stretched out one leg, took aim, and neatly kicked his heel into Tharn's sides. 

"Why are you so slow," Type said, and dug his heel in harder. "Come on, Tharn."

"You're so impatient," Tharn said, kissing the corners of Type's lips, and somehow went even slower until Type thought he was going to go crazy with desperation. A few more lazy thrusts later, Type propped himself up and reached out to pinch the nearest part of Tharn he could reach - it was either his wrist or the inside of his elbow, Type wasn't sure, but Tharn's yelp of surprise assured him that he managed to get his point across. 

Or so he thought, because then Tharn pushed Type down again, this time so forcefully that Type barely managed to turn his head away to one side to avoid smothering himself face first in the couch cushions. And then Tharn's hand was gripping the back of his neck to keep him pinned down in place, and Type whined because this definitely wasn't fair at all. 

Type felt Tharn lean down, his breath hot and warm over the side of his face. Then Tharn growled right into his ear, "You need to learn to take what I give you, Type," and _fuck_ if his alcohol-addled brain didn't think that was one of the hottest things Tharn had ever said to him during sex. 

"I hate you," Type said. 

"I could do this all night," Tharn said, "Keep you right on the edge and never letting you come, teach you how to be patient," voice low and hovering somewhere in that dangerous zone between a threat and a promise. He demonstrated exactly what he meant by pulling all the way out, then dragging his cock between the cleft of Type's ass, letting the fat head of his cock catch on the rim of his hole a few times but never actually fucking him.

_That_ in particular was one of Type's favourite things for Tharn to do to him, but he had no doubt that Tharn was perfectly capable of keeping this up until Type lost his mind. He wisely decided to keep his mouth shut for now.

By the time Tharn finally decided to pick up the pace, Type thought he could actually cry in relief. His entire body felt weak, arms splayed uselessly by his sides and legs strectched obscenely around Tharn's hips. He was so painfully aroused now, his cock untouched, hard and straining; after his second attempt at getting himself off, Tharn had grabbed his wrists and pinned them down above his head.

"Don't," Tharn had said. "You'll get to come when I say so."

Type let out a loud curse that turned halfway into a long, drawn-out moan as Tharn hit that spot within him that made his whole body shudder. Tharn knew all the best ways to drive him to the edge, wringing all the pleasure from his body and quite possibly ruining him for anyone else.  
  
Which was a good thing because Tharn was _his_ , Type thought viciously, and that wasn't the alcohol talking at all.

Then Tharn reached one hand between Type's legs to wrap around his cock, so suddenly that Type arched up in shock. And the next thing he knew, his orgasm was hitting him like a freight train and making him clench hard around Tharn's cock still buried in his ass, which made it all the more perfect because he felt Tharn stilling and going rigid above him, coming deep in him and coating his insides with his come.

Type found that he quite liked the thought of that. 

"Shit," Type said weakly, then winced as Tharn gingerly pulled out. 

Tharn laughed, and kissed the nape of his neck. "I've missed you. Wanna shower together?"

"'M not moving," Type said. "Can't move. This is all your fault."

Tharn laughed again, moving away, and Type listened to his retreating footsteps as he traced his way back to his bags to retrieve his things, then the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut. 

Type stared at the little frayed ends of thread poking out from the couch upholstery, still refusing to move before he had to, and wondered what exactly it would feel like if Tharn did all that but this time with Type handcuffed to the bed and-

"I'm done," Tharn's voice said, tossing a thick fluffy towel over him. 

Type groaned as he sat up, the combination of alcohol and dopamine still rushing through his veins and making his head woozy. He pulled the towel over his shoulders, and shuffled over to the drawers by his desk, pulling them open one by one and rummaging through them until he found what he was looking for.

"There," Type announced, throwing the black box at Tharn. It landed somewhere on the floor by Tharn's side of the bed, Type's aim completely off. He frowned.

"Type, what was that?" Tharn said. He sounded confused.

"For next time," Type said, sauntering off down the hallway to the bathroom. He thought he should be proud that his words weren't slurring over themselves. "Gonna shower now, bye."

  
The next morning, Type opened his eyes to bright sunlight shining in too brightly through the windows, then instantly screwed his eyes shut again.

There's the sound of Tharn laughing, then of the curtains being drawn shut. 

"Better now?" 

"Ugh," Type said, eloquently. He squinted up to see Tharn sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, holding out a bottle of aspirin like a peace offering.

"I made tea, it's in the flask on the table," Tharn said. "You can go back to sleep, your morning class got cancelled. Techno called but you were still sleeping and I didn't want to wake you."

That sounded perfect. Type groaned again, taking two pills at once. Tharn obligingly handed him a plastic cup of water and Type gulped it all down. This was why he loved Tharn; Tharn was just so damned attentive to his needs. Obviously the mind-blowing sex was a large factor too, but Type wasn't about to tell him that.

"I'll bring back lunch later," Tharn said, getting up. "What do you want, chicken or pork?"

"Mmm hmm," Type said, and buried his head under the covers again.

He slept all the way till an hour before lunchtime, then dragged himself out of bed to pour himself a mug of tea. It was still steaming hot and smelled like peppermint, and worked wonderfully to chase away the rest of his headache, just in time for Tharn to return with takeaway boxes of fried chicken and rice. 

Type was nearly halfway through his food before he noticed Tharn hadn't touched his own portion at all. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Type said at last, suspicious. 

"Type."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"What's this?" 

Type choked around a mouthful of rice when Tharn pulled out those damned handcuffs seemingly out of nowhere and dangled them in the air. He felt his face go hot and red, because how the fuck had Tharn known? When the fuck had-

"Oh," Type said, as the memories of his drunken self came rushing back to him. He jumped out of his chair. "Give them back."

Tharn was faster, backing away with the handcuffs just out of Type's reach. "No."

"Hey! Give them back!"

Tharn gave him an infuriating, knowing smirk, and Type somehow went even redder. 

"Did you want to use them?" Tharn said, and if he wasn't before, he's definitely taunting Type now, the absolute bastard. "Did you want me to tie you up?"

"It was supposed to be a joke!" Type yelled, and snatching for the handcuffs but Tharn just held them even farther out of his reach. 

"You sure about that?" Tharn said, one eyebrow quirked up at him. 

Tharn had that look on his face that usually meant that Type was moments away from being pinned down onto the nearest available surface and getting thoroughly fucked within inches of his life. While Type usually enjoyed those occasions, Tharn had that devious glint in his eyes that meant he was determined to make Type do something embarrassing, like actually talk about his feelings. 

So Type did the next best thing he could think of, which was to stalk off towards his side of the room to grab his gym bag.

"I'm going out!" Type yelled over his shoulder. "Asshole!"

  
Techno went from impressed at how early Type was for practice, to entirely unimpressed the very next minute as Type limped his way through their usual warm-ups. 

"Can you please tell Tharn to go easier on you the days before we have practice," Techno said, completely unashamed and utterly deadpan. 

Type sat down on the grass, put his head between his knees, groaned loudly, and wondered what he'd ever done to deserve the whole universe conspiring together to embarrass him today. 

"You should stop talking to Tharn, he's being a bad influence on you," Type informed him. 

"You're saying that like you're a role model yourself," Techno said, then neatly dodged Type's fist. "Okay, I'm sorry! Forget I said anything!"

"Traitor," Type muttered, waited for Techno to get distracted by Champ coming into the locker room looking for them, and this time managed to land a smack over Techno's head as he got up. 

Techno retaliated by making the whole team run laps around the field, so by the time Type got back to his apartment, it took all his effort just to limp across the living room and collapse into the couch next to Tharn, who was watching some crime investigation show on the television.

"Sorry I yelled this morning," Type said grudgingly, dumping a bag of Tharn's favourite snacks right onto his lap.   
  
Tharn gave him a dour look, then turned back to his show with no indication he'd heard Type. 

"Tharn," Type whined. "I said I'm sorry." He curled up to Tharn and buried his face in his shoulder, then mumbled, "Youcantiemeupifyouwant."

Now that got Tharn's attention. "What did you say?"

"I said," Type said, only going slightly pink this time as he looked up again, "You can... You know. Tie me up. If you want."

Tharn stared at him for a long time, an undecipherable look crossing his face, then finally said, "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want. He put his arms around Type to pull him closer. "And I'm sorry for teasing you."

"No!" Type said, and promptly went on to dig himself in deeper. "That's not what I meant. I got them because... I thought it would be hot. If you tied me up. You could do anything you wanted to me, and... I couldn't stop you," he added despairingly.

Tharn's gaze immediately went dark, hungry, and Type knew he'd hit the jackpot. 

"So you'll do it?" Type said in a small voice. He tried not to sound too hopeful, but the way Tharn always liked to hold him down whenever they fucked, leaving bruises over his hips and thighs... 

"Yes. But not tonight," Tharn said at last, kissing him on the cheek. "You look tired. Go have a shower, then we'll have dinner."

  
Tharn then proceeded to fend off all of Type's attempts at sex over the next few days, much to Type's bafflement and increasing frustration. It was both disconcerting and bizarre; Type was so used to Tharn's constant physical demonstrations of affection (and the sex, of course), but when even climbing into bed stark naked failed to produce results, he actually felt downright _insulted_.

"Tharn," Type whined. 

"Hmm?" Tharn sounded distracted. Type was starting to suspect that casual apathy was the mode Tharn defaulted to when he wanted to be a shithead.

"Have sex with me," Type said bluntly. 

"Not tonight," Tharn said. He patted Type on the head. "Go to sleep, Type."

"I'm gonna go jerk off by myself in the bathroom," Type threatened. 

Tharn laughed, then took Type's hand, thumb tracing circles over the insides of his wrist. "I want to wait till the weekend to do it," Tharn said, paused, then smirked widely. "That way I'll have all day to have my way with you." 

Type felt a shiver run through his body at Tharn's words, then pulled his hand away. "Fine," he said sulkily, getting up. 

"Where are you going?"

"To jerk off," Type retorted, then let out a small _oof_ as Tharn yanked him back into bed. 

"Won't let you," Tharn murmured, pulling Type closer and wrapping his arms around him. "Mm, you smell so good. Hold on for just a few more days, for me? It'll feel so much better if you let it build up."

"Fine," Type said, wholly unsatisfied.

Tharn actually laughed. "Are you sulking?"

"No," Type said sulkily, and decided it was time to move on to Plan B. 

The next day, Type skipped his usual evening football session and went straight to the mall. The entire kit of collar and leather cuffs cost him the equivalent of a week's lunch money but Type wasn't too concerned; Tharn obviously wouldn't let him starve so he would survive somehow. 

The girl behind the counter peered thoughtfully at him as she counted out his change. This time Type recognised the signs of impeding danger, bolted before she could offer him any more suggestions. 

When he got back, Tharn was in the hallway lacing up his shoes, getting ready for band practice. Type tried to look innocent. 

"Techno called me," Tharn said, like Tharn and Type were naturally joined at the hip all the time, and there went any hopes of Type acting normal, "He wanted to know why you weren't at practice."

"I had to go pick up something," Type said, careful to hold his shopping bag behind him as he sidled past Tharn. 

"Ah, okay."

Type stared as Tharn slung his guitar over his shoulder, already moving towards the front door, waited, then said indignantly, "Aren't you going to ask where I went?"

"No?" Tharn looked genuinely concerned for a moment. "Should I?"

Type scowled, pulled out his latest acquisition and unceremoniously shoved it at Tharn, watching with some satisfaction as Tharn's eyes widened. 

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

Type looked away, obstinate. "No," he snapped. "Damn it, just forget about it then." 

Tharn came up to him. He cupped Type's face in his hands, making Type look at him. Type glowered back. 

"I hope you know what you're asking for, Type," Tharn said quietly. "There's just something about you that makes me lose control of myself."

"Bullshit. You're such a sap." Type half-heartedly tried to wriggle out of Tharn's hold, but Tharn stopped him.

"Just wait till Sunday," Tharn promised, leaning down to kiss him. "Don't even think you'll get to leave this room until I'm done with you."

  
On Sunday morning, Type decided he was going to murder Tharn and make it look like an accident. 

He'd been on edge all night, tossing and turning in bed and glaring at Tharn's sleeping form next to him in the dark. In the end, he'd only managed to fall asleep sometime after three in the morning, which meant he woke up late, close to noon and more offensively _alone_ in their shared room.

He was halfway through plotting Tharn's murder (have sex with him first, then smother the bastard with his own pillow) when he heard the front door open and Tharn's voice calling out from the entryway. 

"Type, are you awake? I got us lunch."

Tharn had gotten him the curry from his favourite place. Type helped unpack the takeaway containers and set out the spoons, then said in his most magnanimous tone, "Okay, you don't get murdered today then." 

Tharn didn't even sound fazed. "Were you going to murder me?"

"I was just wondering if it would be worth the effort," Type said, and grinned. 

Tharn lets out a short bark of laughter. "I love you, Type," he said. 

Type wasn't sure what to say in response to that, so he settled for shoving more rice into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, then in the end he said, "Yeah."

"Yeah? That's all you're going to say?"

"You promised me mind-blowing sex." Type glared at him. "I'm still waiting."

"Oh, you'll get it all right," Tharn said. "Now eat."

Type ate. 

After that Tharn made him shower first, then came up to him as he stepped out of the bathroom. 

"You won't be needing that," Tharn said, pulling away the towel wrapped around his waist. 

Type started to protest, but Tharn's lips were on him the next second, calloused hands gripping his hips and he forgot he was supposed to be annoyed. Tharn pressed him up against the wall and kissed him until Type had to push him off to catch his breath. 

"I'm naked," Type whined. 

Tharn quirked an eyebrow up at him. "Isn't that the point?"

"You're still completely dressed," Type pointed out. 

"I'm not the one getting tied up." 

Tharn walked him to the edge of the bed, then suddenly shoved at him, tipping him over. Type landed on his side, completely caught off guard, then rolled onto his back as Tharn climbed over him to cage him in with his arms. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," Tharn said. 

"You could show me," Type said, breathless.

Type felt Tharn's hand snaking under him, then grabbing the back of his neck to hold him still. He melted into the firm grip, lying pliant to let Tharn leave a trail of kisses down the column of his throat and across his shoulders. 

It always felt so good whenever Tharn did that. Tharn loved to mark him up, and Type loved how he could set off Tharn's possessiveness over him by simply existing within the peripheries of his vision. 

"Can't wait to hear you beg," Tharn said, rubbing at a spot over Type's collarbone that was definitely going to turn into a hickey; Type squirmed but Tharn's grasp on the nape of his neck kept him in place.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, I don't beg," Type said. 

Tharn pressed his thumb against Type's lower lip. Type opened his mouth and licked at the pad of Tharn's thumb, tasting salt, then gently bit him. 

Tharn ripped his hand away. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?" Type let his lips part suggestively, and Tharn shoved two fingers into his mouth like he wanted to choke him. Type closed his eyes and sucked on Tharn's fingers, swirling his tongue around the knuckles.

"That's enough," Tharn said finally, his voice coming out in a croak. 

Type smirked at the growing arousal on Tharn's face. "Want me to suck you off?"

"Later," Tharn breathed. "Keep your eyes closed and turn over for me, Type."

Type obeyed. He felt the mattress shift as Tharn climbed off him, then heard the telltale creak of the bedside drawer being pulled open - the one they'd delegated as their supplies drawer - then Tharn was back. 

"I'm going to put the collar on you first, okay?" he heard Tharn's voice say. "Tell me if it's too much and you need me to stop."

"Okay." Type exhaled.

"Can you get on your knees for me?"

Type sat up. He could feel Tharn at his back, his body a warm wall of heat against his bare skin, and then Tharn was carefully wrapping the strip of leather around his neck. He held his breath as Tharn snapped the buckle into place, then pulled the collar tight. There was a strange feeling in his chest, like his heart was about to burst open. 

The handcuffs were next; Tharn made him cross his wrists across the small of his back and hold still as he secured the cuffs in place. 

"Everything okay so far?"

Type flexed his arms, testing the give of the cuffs. "Yeah, I'm good. I think you can put the chain on."

Tharn was a little rougher with him this time, and Type wished he could turn around to watch the expression on his face. The chain was heavy and taut, clipping onto a ring set into the collar on one end, the other to the handcuffs so he was forced to keep his back arched the whole time. It didn't hurt, just enough on the side of uncomfortable enough to remind him that he was completely helpless and at Tharn's mercy. 

Type had learned early on that Tharn liked being in control. And Type liked to just _let_ him because it was pretty fucking hot after all. 

Tharn splayed a hand over his shoulders, pushing him back down and Type had to turn his face to one side to avoid a mouthful of their cotton bedsheets, knees spreading wider apart to keep his balance.

"Good?" Tharn's voice sounded like he was speaking from far away across the room.

Type shook himself out of his haze. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. 

The way the restraints seemed to heighten every little sensation was overwhelming, and Type had to close his eyes again as he felt Tharn press a gentle kiss over his bare shoulders. 

"What," Type started, _are you planning to do_ , he wanted to say, but then realised his voice was shaking so badly that he probably wasn't going to be able to get the rest of his question out any coherently. So he snapped his mouth shut again and tried very hard not to think about how his heart was racing at what felt like a hundred beats a second.

"You look so good like this," Tharn said, "All tied up for me."

Type arched his back as Tharn ran his palms over him, caressing and exploring up and down his sides, then across his chest and dipping down towards his hips. Tharn's hands seemed to leave heated trails of sensitised skin in their wake, and Type muffled a whimper as Tharn bent over to kiss him over the curve of the small of his back.

Then Tharn gripped him by the hips, and Type held his breath in anticipation as he felt Tharn's hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks and then running a thumb firmly down the line of his ass. 

Tharn's thumb immediately sank deep into him, already slick and wet with lube, and Type grinned to himself as he heard Tharn swear loudly.

"Surprise," Type said savagely. "Do you like it?"

Tharn swore some more, then said lowly, "Fuck, I had other plans for you, but fuck-"

Type felt Tharn put his hands under his stomach, then he was being hauled bodily nearer to the edge of the bed. A bolt of pain shot through his bound arms from the strain of keeping himself up, but Type found he didn't mind it at all.

"Oh god," Type said faintly at the dawning realisation how very _kinky_ this was getting, then said it again as he felt Tharn pressing the fat head of his cock against his hole.

"You're such an impatient brat," Tharn said as he pushed in, all his gentleness gone now, "Should make you come like this, just on my cock." 

"You can't," Type said, then hissed as Tharn grabbed the chain linking his handcuffs to the collar around his neck, dragging him up. "Fuck, Tharn, you're going to kill me."

"What are you going to do about it then?" Tharn said, not releasing him. "It's not like you can do anything to stop me anyway, all tied up like this."

"I could - oh fuck," Type said, his knees shaking. He was used to Tharn holding him down when fucking him, but this was _incredible_. The collar was just tight enough that he was forced to gasp shallowly with every breath, the lack of oxygen making him dizzy with lust, and his arms strained so painfully against the unyielding restraints that his whole body hurt.

"You like this?" Tharn said, and angled Type just right so that his cock hit that sweet spot within him that made him cry out in desperation.   
  
"Tharn," Type gasped, as Tharn did it again, "What are you-"

"You can take it," Tharn growled, fucking him harder, "I know you can, Type."

Type could, but he didn't think it was very fair because it felt like he was drowning, being buffeted mercilessly by waves of pleasure from all around him. He almost sobbed a little. 

"Need to come," Type choked out. "Tharn, please, I need to come."

Tharn thrust into him once, hard, then pulled out so suddenly that Type's first thought was _oh shit_ because Tharn was probably going to make it a whole lot more worse for him, like keep him on the edge for the rest of the day without letting him come at all. But then Tharn was grabbing his shoulders and flipping him over onto his back, and Type yelped as his bound hands were twisted uncomfortably under the weight of his own body. 

Tharn leaned down. "I'll let you have it just this one time," he said, and there was something in his voice that made Type shiver, his insides twisting about despite himself. "As a reward for begging so prettily."

Tharn put his mouth on Type's cock then, taking him all the way deep into his throat. And that did it for him, the warm wetness of Tharn's mouth around him making him come so hard that his mind went blank for what felt like a whole minute. 

"Oh," Type said weakly. "That was crazy."

"That's good," Tharn said, kissing him once, then smiled against Type's lips. "Because I'm not even anywhere near done with you yet." 

"So," Techno said to him the next day, "Just in case you'd forgotten, I had a very specific request that you and Tharn-"

"Hey Techno," Type said loudly over him, because this time Techno really deserved it coming to him, "Weren't you just saying you wanted to get something for Champ? I just thought of the perfect present..."


End file.
